


Ramen Stakeout

by SadinaSaphrite



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blackwatch Era, Blackwatch Genji is SO ANGRY, Gen, Implied Gency if you squint with the other eye, Implied McGenji if you squint with one eye, Mild Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-12-05 18:52:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11584050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SadinaSaphrite/pseuds/SadinaSaphrite
Summary: Genji tries to tolerate McCree while on a stakeout in Japan. McCree struggles with chopsticks. Part of Blackwatch Week 2017.





	Ramen Stakeout

**Author's Note:**

> This was initially a seven chapter piece with each chapter working as a daily prompt for Blackwatch Week, but it seems everyone else is uploading them as one-shots, so I'm gonna jump on that bandwagon.

Stakeouts, Genji decided, were the worst kind of mission. Anything else, he felt like he was at least accomplishing something. Whether it be infiltration, sabotage, espionage, reconnaissance, or the one time Commander Reyes and himself had gone on a mission alone for a quiet assassination, Genji was at least up and moving and _doing_ something. But stakeouts were…boring.  
  
They were set up outside a little ramen shop in Shinjuku, the tiny shop almost swallowed up by the skyscrapers around them as they watched for their target. Intelligence had reported that the Shimada Clan was negotiating new deals with their drug trafficking sometime this week, so they needed to watch the entrance to one particular office building and wait for the Shimada representative to show up. Genji was an obvious choice to send, as he knew who and what to watch for when it came to the Shimada Clan. He had been ready to set out alone, but Reyes had sent McCree along with him, insisting that a solo stakeout was a pain in the ass at best, dangerous at worst, and doomed to fail either way.  
  
“I’m grabbing a bite for lunch. You want anything, darlin?”  
  
They were only a day into the stakeout, and Genji’s tolerance of McCree was already wearing thin.  
  
“No,” he replied sharply. “And do not call me that.”  
  
“Alright, sugar. Suit yourself.” McCree got up from the table and wandered into the little ramen shop.  
  
Truthfully, Genji really had grown hungry over the course of the morning, but wasn’t comfortable taking his face plate off in public, for fear of drawing attention to himself. He was already hiding his cybernetics under a pair of long sweats and a hoodie, which, with it being July in Tokyo, was hot, humid, and miserable. The soft sound of exhaust fans hummed under his clothing, trying to keep his cybernetics cool. He wondered if he could overheat like a laptop left in the sun, if he could just suddenly hit the wrong temperature and shut down. Would just the cybernetic part of his body shut down? Or would he pass out? Would it be treated like heat stroke, or would McCree need to drag him somewhere cooler and “reboot” him? The more he thought about it, the more his gnawing hunger turned to nausea. There was still a lot he didn’t understand about his new body, and he had blown off Dr. Zeigler the last few times she’d tried to talk to him about it.  
  
As the blonde doctor wandered into his thoughts, he scowled behind his faceplate and quickly tried to push the thoughts away. He still didn’t know how to feel about her. She was nice enough, sure, but she was the woman who saved him from the brink of death and trapped him inside a machine. Half of him was grateful she had saved his life, the other half furious that she hadn’t just let him die in peace, and the result left him upset and conflicted. It was much easier to avoid her altogether.  
  
This was the other problem with stakeouts, Genji decided. It left him with too much time to think.  
  
“I just got the one bowl, but you can have a bite if y’change your mind,” McCree wandered back and took his seat, a bowl of noodles, egg, and vegetables in hand.  
  
Genji ignored him, arms folded, keeping one eye on the door they were watching while passively watching the rest of the busy street.  
  
“Aw, hell,” McCree grumbled, starting to get back up. “I gotta go back in there and ask for a fork. What’s ‘fork’ in Japanese?”  
  
“Don’t,” Genji barked, a little harsher than he intended, and McCree stopped halfway out of his chair. “You will only make a fool of yourself. In Japan, we eat with chopsticks.”  
  
“I know what chopsticks are, I’m not an idiot,” McCree replied, sounding more than a little irritated. “I just can’t use ‘em, is all. I’m gonna see if that guy’s got a fork I can use.”  
  
“Sit down,” Genji finally turned to give him a hard look. “They’re not even going to have one.”  
  
Reluctantly, McCree sat back down and adjusted his stupid hat that he had insisted on wearing. “To keep the sun out of his eyes,” he had claimed, and on a hot day like today, Genji couldn’t blame him.  
  
“You’re really going to eat ramen? In this heat?”  
  
“Oh, please,” McCree scoffed. “It’s not even 90. I’ve had summers in New Mexico where you could have fried an egg on a sidewalk and we’d still be drinking hot coffee. …Humidity is a bit much, though. Feel like I’m gonna drown just breathing.” He frowned down at his ramen. “Not that it matters much at all, as I can’t actually _eat_ this.”  
  
Genji sighed. “Did you get chopsticks?”  
  
McCree opened his palm, holding a pair of disposable chopsticks that had been handed to him. “Yeah.”  
  
“Good. You’re getting a crash course in how to not be an embarrassment to me, starting with how to use a pair of chopsticks.”  
  
McCree gave him a sideways look that Genji couldn’t quite read. “…Yeah, okay. What do I do?”  
  
“Well, first break the chopsticks apart.”  
  
McCree’s thick fingers fumbled a little as he pulled the bamboo chopsticks out of the paper sleeve and split them apart.  
  
“Ah. Oh. Shoot. Didn’t quite get it all the way.” McCree held up his asymmetrical set of chopsticks and gave Genji a half-grin.  
  
Genji sighed. “This is going so well already.”  
  
“Just tell me what to do.”  
  
“Take one of them – no, just one – and hold it like a pencil…Really? That’s how you hold a pencil? No wonder your handwriting is terrible.” Genji tutted under his breath and reached over, adjusting McCree’s grip.  
  
“You’re one to talk,” McCree griped, trying to move his hand the way Genji was urging him to. “Have you tried to read your own reports?”  
  
“My handwriting is stylized, not terrible.”  
  
“Don’t make a difference if no one can read it.”  
  
“Maybe the same people who taught you how to hold a pencil taught you to read, and the problem is still on your end.”  
  
“Haha. Very funny.”  
  
“Now take the second chopstick and hold it like this. No. No. Lower your finger to—no, wrong finger. Here…” Genji helped adjust the second chopstick in his grip. “Now move your pointer finger to-… No, your thumb should hold still and act as a fulcrum. The movement is actually very minimal. It should only be your first finger that actually moves. No. No, not… No. Hold your thumb still. …Better.”  
  
After a few more moments of scolding and adjusting, he’d gotten McCree to the point where his fellow agent could at least use the chopsticks enough to successfully pick up the pieces of meat and half-shovel the noodles into his mouth. He slurped with every bite.  
  
“Thanks, Genji! This is much better!”  
  
Genji sighed and turned his attention back to the doors of the office building. He had six more days of this?  
  
Stakeouts really were the worst kind of mission.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not super thrilled with how this one turned out, but please stick around for the other pieces coming out this week! I'm much happier with those! Also check me out at dabbledrabbleprose.tumblr.com.


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